


Whispering Silence

by TheIsolatedShadow



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: 1878, After the events of Syndicate but before the events of the Jack the Ripper DLC, Blood and Gore, Children, F/M, Murder, Romance, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:57:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIsolatedShadow/pseuds/TheIsolatedShadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 1878. Jacob Frye is at the pinnacle of society; leader of the Rooks, member of the Order of the Sacred Garter and Mentor of the city's Assassins. Mabel Lynch, shunned by the community for her passion in criminology, comes to him for help over six cases she believes are connected. As the two investigate, somewhere else in the city; there is only silence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab between me and SerenitysWillow on Fanfiction.Net which you can find on my account over there called TheIsolatedShadow. You can also find this on Tumblr under acwhisperingsilence.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue is a little bit short. Sorry! Won't be like that for the rest of the story, it's just the Prologue.

 

* * *

  _London, 1872_

* * *

Jacob sat on his chair next to the window staring out into the streets of London, his fingers tapping on the armrest as his other hand held up his head. The rain outside hit the glass as hard as it could, giving him a different noise to focus on then the screams of his wife inside of their room.

To his left on another chair sat Ned Wynert, who was staring at the wall over the fireplace, his head in his hands. Inspector Abberline paced in front of him, stopping whenever he heard a particularly loud scream coming from the closed door.

On the desk in front of Jacob was a half-written letter addressed to Evie, which he had began writing when the nurses had arrived led by Florence Nightingale and he had been pushed out of the room, his wife's cries making him struggle to get back inside to comfort her until he had been pulled away by Ned and Abberline that had arrived when they had got the news from some Rooks earlier that afternoon.

_21st October, 1872_

_Evie,_  
_It's time. Cora went into labour at 2pm today. She's been in there for six hours, and I'm beginning to worry. Her screams aren't supposed to be that...pain filled, are they?_

_Ned and Freddy are here with me, waiting. We're hoping you and Greenie could bring Clementine to come visit soon and meet your niece or nephew and we can meet our niece for the first time? Cora would love it if you came. (To surprise her of course, the next few months will be a bit busy)-_

A loud scream, louder than the others, made Jacob flinch. Once it stopped he stood. "I can't handle this no more," he disrupted the silence between the three men. "I'm going in there." He walked past the two, who looked at each other before going after him.

"Frye, no man is allowed in there!" Ned called. Just as Jacob reached the door it opened, and the three men stopped, holding their breath. Florence Nightingale smiled up at Jacob sadly, and his heart dropped into his stomach. He pushed past her before she could say anything, and she sighed before looking at Ned and Frederick, who could only look at each other.

"Cora." Jacob whispered, walking towards her and taking one of her trembling hands into his. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, small pants coming out of her mouth between inhales of air. She looked terrible; she was deathly pale, her cheeks flushed red with exhaustion, and her brown hair had been pulled out of it's bun, covering the two pillow either side of her head which she had been slightly laying on.

"J-Jacob...?" she whispered, trying to pull herself up to reach for her husband. He sat down near her head on the bed, taking her hand in both of his. "I'm so tired..."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I know, love, I know." he murmured.

"We have twins...-I-I saw one of them. Oh god, Jacob, is that why it's taking so damn long? Are baby is-" she squeezed his hand tightly and tensed her body as pain shot through her. "Oh god!" she yelled.

"Stop pushing, darling." One of the nurses asked her before calling for Florence who rushed back into the room at her scream and peered between her legs. Jacob got up, whispering that he would right back, and rushed to her who looked at him.

"The cord is wrapped around their neck." she sent him a quick reassuring smile. "We just need to get them free, that's all. Can you hold on for us Mrs Frye? Mrs Frye?"

Jacob turned his head back to look at his wife, who had her eyes closed and was still, but her chest was slowly moving signalling life. "No, oh god, no." He rushed forward, cupping her cheek in his hand, tapping her skin gently to get some kind of response from her, but her head lolled to the side, motionless. "No, no, no! Cora Frye you better wake up right now!"

He held his breath, but eventually she opened her eyes, looking at him. "That's it, my girl, that's it." he let out a relieved sigh. "You just need to hold on and push when Florence says, can you do that?" her weak nod made him give her a triumph smile. At least she was awake enough to hear what he was saying. "Come on, you can do this baby." he grabbed her hand again and gave it a squeeze.

"Okay, push!" Florence gave her the order and with a deep breath, she pushed as hard as she could, letting out a loud scream and as quick as it happened it stopped. She fell back, limp as the baby's cries filled the room which started off the other baby who had been sleeping in one of the other nurses arms. Jacob let out a relaxed sigh, beaming with pride as he turned to look at his wife.

"Cora, you did it! Oh my darling wife, I'm so proud of you!-Cora?"

She was still. Her chest wasn't rising and falling and her hold on his hand was limp. Jacob took his wife's face in his hands as he inspected her face for any signs of life, getting more and more desperate with each passing second. He shook his head in denial. "Cora, baby? No, oh god, no, you can't leave me! You can't! I can't do this on my own, please!" he pulled and held her close, sobbing into her hair as he rocked her back in forth.

The nurses left one by one, two carrying the newborns out of the room until it was only Jacob left, clutching his wife to his chest.

* * *

_30th October, 1972_

_Mrs Frye,  
_ _Twins. Both weighing 9 and a half pounds._ _Samuel and Gwyneth Frye. Whilst you gained two new family members, you have lost one. Your Highness heard about the loss through the Maharajah and provided the two with a wetnurse, offering Congratulations for their birth. Jacob has shut himself away with the twins. I feared the worst, but their wetnurse assured me that they are doing well. Ned goes frequently to check up on him. Daytime he acts like nothing is wrong, but when night falls he gets drunk. He drinks so much he passes out before daybreak._

_I know that you will try and rush back to London to look after your brother and his children, but I assure you that I will call for you if anything else happens. There's no need to come, you have your husband and own daughter to look after. He just needs time to process the information._

_Condolences_ _,  
Frederick Abberline._

* * *

Jacob stood in front of the grave, his hands clenched together in front of him. The twins wetnurse, Maggie, had volunteered to look after the children during the funeral leaving Ned, Abberline and Clara to take Jacob to the funeral and be there as support. He stood through the whole thing still and silent, worrying everyone who knew the youngest Frye twin personally. The children who Jacob trained to become Assassins weren't there and were instead back in London, including Jack who actually wrapped his arms around Jacob's legs begging to go.

They all had worn black, but Jacob arrived in his suit, confusing all present. What they didn't know was that this was her favourite suit, the one he wore to stop Crawford Starrick and to locate the Koh-I-Noor diamond, both events had her by his side. He missed her so much every time he thought of her it hurt to breathe. He thought he would cry in front of everyone at the funeral, but instead he stood numbly as her coffin was lowered into the ground.

 _Cora Frye_  
1848-1872  
Loving Daughter, Wife, Mother and Friend

From that day on, Jacob was alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**1878** _  
_ **Six Years Later**

The door slammed shut, signalling his return. A little girl sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace looked up as a smile grew on her face; _Papa was home!_

She pushed herself up, holding tightly onto the doll in her hand as she ran towards the footsteps coming towards her from the other room. Getting used to his daughter's welcome, he bent down and picked her up the moment she was at arms length. "Winnie, baby!" he greeted, a big smile on his face, "Where's your brother?"

There was no need to answer, only to give her father a look. Said-brother was still asleep in his bed across the hall, which wasn't new to the Frye family, as little Sammy had a hard time getting to sleep at night and usually stayed up longer than his younger sister, who slept like a baby. He placed her on his hip and walked further into their small home.

Their apartment in Whitechapel was small but homely; once going up a flight of stairs past the kitchen, you were left with two doors to enter. One led to the twin's room and the bathroom while the other led to the living room, his study and his room. While a regular sized apartment in their area of the borough would usually fit two families in two parts of the house, Jacob had bought the other apartment (which was the smaller one of the two) to act as a decoy in case they were attacked at their home. That hadn't happened yet, but he was waiting for the time when that did arrive.

"Have you been waiting for me to come home, baby girl?" he asked, setting her down on his desk and bending over some stacks of papers next to her. She swung her legs back and forth as she took a good look at her father.

He had cut his hair, taming it and cutting it short enough not to stick up at the sides and make him look like a mess (although that did not stop some strands in the front from falling to brush against his forehead) but like his younger self he still had a thick stubble going on which she didn't think would leave anytime soon. He hadn't grown at all, and had become slimmer over the years. Gwyneth was happy to say that he still had his little stomach which she loved to slap in the morning to wake him up and quickly run away before he could catch her.

"Toast for breakfast, Papa?" she asked kindly. He looked up and smiled.

"If that's what you like." he picked her up and placed her on the ground. "Can you go wake Samuel up while I make the two of you breakfast?"

"Okay, Papa!" she ran through the two connecting rooms, her father's shouts for her to walk ignored by the small girl. She stood on her toes to open up the door to her shared bedroom and crept inside, looking across the room to the bed where her older brother was curled up, sleeping. With a devilish smile that would have reminded anyone of her father, she placed her doll down gently and quietly making sure not to make any noise and rushed forward, leaping up into the air and landing directly onto the ball wrapped up in blankets.

A strangled yelp left Samuel's lips as he was thrust awake, his eyes being forced to look at one gruesome image to another, except this time it came in the form of a grinning little girl on top of him (if he even dared speak those words allowed, he would get a pummelling from the younger Frye he thought he would never receive from such a small person). Her long blonde hair tickled his nose and he sneezed, making her shriek and clamber off the bed in a haste to get away from him.

"Ew!" he could only laugh as his sister rushed around to get his germs off her beautiful golden locks. Hurried footsteps was heard running up the stairs and the piece of wood separating their room and the hallway slammed open, hitting the wall hard and probably leaving some sort of reminder in it's place. Jacob, brandishing a frying pan, stood in the doorway, eyes swivelling around the room for any signs of intruders.

Samuel climbed out of bed and walked slowly up to his father, hand out. "Papa, would you mind putting that down?"

It wasn't like Jacob would hurt his children, but being the offspring of a gang leader and an Assassin pretty much hated by so many people made the eldest Frye on edge, and for a good reason. He had pissed so many people off since his arrival in London ten years ago that he didn't go a week without being attached by some gang or another. They were his only link back to his dead wife, and if something happened to them he would be distraught and probably set London ablaze.

Jacob was the type of father who loved his children to death. An example of this was when the twins were four, Gwyneth had caught a cough that made Jacob think she was dying. He babied her for weeks and never left her side until she could go a day without coughing up her lungs (the small cough only developed because of Jacob's lack of education in the illness factor). It was sweet and adorable at first but after a while it got quite annoying for his son, who was moved from their shared room to his father's bed while Jacob kept watch on his little sister day and night. The only good thing that came out of the situation for him was reuniting with his twin again.

He lowered his hand. "I thought...what happened?" that single question began a round of finger pointing and yelling.

"She jumped on me!" unknowingly stubborn Samuel began to pout.

"He sneezed into my hair, Papa! My hair!" secretly sensitive Gwyneth began to tear up.

Jacob sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. _'I'm too old for this shit'_ he thought as his twins fired off accusations, bringing back incidents what happened months and nearly a year ago back up.

"At least I didn't crush one of your things!"

"I _fell_ on it because _you_ pushed me!"

"Oy!" the sound of their father's raised voice brought them out of their squabbling and they turned their attention to him. The same facial expression, stance and look in their eyes made Jacob shiver. How could two siblings be so much in sync with each other?!

Now he understood what his grandmother and father went through raising him and Evie. Unlike the two of them, his twins happened to have the same eyes, hair colour (although Samuel's was beginning to grow darker), even the same amount of freckles on their cheeks which was no doubt inherited from his genes as Cora had no family members she knew with freckles. "There is no need to argue about things we have settled in the past. Now, Gwyneth, apologise to Sammy for waking him up so rudely."

She turned, wiping her eyes to get rid of the tears threatening to fall. "Sorry, Sammy."

"That's a good girl. Now Samuel, I know you didn't mean to, but can you apologise to Winnie for sneezing into her hair." although it sounded like a question, it was not something he could consider. He turned to face his little sister.

"Sorry, Winnie." they smiled at each other and without being asked, hugged one another making Jacob smile fondly.

"Good boy. Now, both of you come give me a big hug!" he knelt down on one knee as his children ran to him, throwing their arms around his neck, standing on their toes to reach him. The three laughed, letting out similar noises that showed the closeness this family was to one another.

A woman smiled from where she stood in the hallway, arms crossed and hip cocked out to the side. "Well, well, well." she mused, catching the Frye's attention. "Never thought I would see the day Jacob Frye would handle a situation without using his fists."

"Aunt Clara!" the twins left the warmth of their father and rushed to the older woman, who laughed and hugged both of them affectionately. Jacob stood up straight and smiled at her.

Clara O'Dea had grown into a beautiful young woman with long brown hair falling to her elbows and gorgeous features like large eyes, thick lips and a button nose covered in freckles. Jacob wasn't interested in her in that way, although beautiful she was, he wasn't the right one for him and Clara had the same opinion. She became his wing-women, trying to find him the perfect woman to find happiness with, like Cora would have wanted. Of course each time it was either someone who hated children or who only wanted him because he had a high rank in society.

"Hi, baby Fryes!" she greeted warmly. "Whose ready for the fair today?"

The two gasped at her, excited for the days events. Jacob smiled as he remembered what the days event would celebrate; it was precisely two weeks before the 10th anniversary of Starrick's death, when his rule over London fell and freed the people of the city. The fair was a two week event, only celebrated every 10 years and was the biggest fair thrown in the capital. Queen Victoria threw a ball on the last day, which Jacob was invited to as the Guest of Honour. He hated going alone, but he always had Freddie to keep him company.

"Aunt Clara, can you help me pick out a nice dress?" Gwyneth asked as Samuel ran into his room to pick out something to wear.

"Of course!" she took his hand and led her into her room.

Jacob turned to look at them, dropping his arms to his side. "But what about your breakfast?"

"They'll have it afterwards!" Clara declared and with a shove, pushed Jacob outside of the room. "Sammy will be using the bathroom as well, so...make sure their food isn't burning." she slammed the door shut.

He sighed. "Yes, Ma'am." and trudged down the stairs.

* * *

**Scotland Yard**

The amount of testosterone around her made her uncomfortable as she followed Frederick Abberline, keeping up with his fast strides. Her hands were full of papers, which she was trying to shove into her satchel every time she had time to stop. "Inspector, please, there's clearly a connection here!"

He sighed and stopped walking, rubbing his temple with one hand and the other resting on his hip. "Miss Lynch, please, we are considering your evidence for these cases but bugging me about it every single day won't speed up the process."

"You told me this last month!" she groaned. "There is clearly enough evidence to skip all that and open up a proper investigation!" Frederick took in the small form of Mabel Lynch, standing in front of him with a desperate look covering her youthful features.

Her grey eyes were wide, full of hope and her lips were parted slightly, ready to throw more words at him to change his mind. The way she stood, straight and defiant made her intimidating indeed, but he had knew Assassins who could provoke fear into someone just by glancing at them and had an aura of dead surrounding them, and Mabel did not have this. Instead, the orphaned daughter of a journalist had a feeling of innocent about her which made her vulnerable, however capable she was looking after herself.

"Miss Lynch." his calm interior disappeared for a few seconds. "No one at Scotland Yard takes you seriously. Yes, I know it is saddening that your father was a victim of a murder. But there is no link between his murder and five others. I suggest you don't harass me with these so-called evidence in the future or I will have to take action against you. Do you understand?"

She started, flabbergasted at him. "Fine." she gritted her teeth and stormed out of Scotland Yard, pushing through gawking men. Her feet led her through Whitechapel until she ended up at a small park (not the typical grass and trees but a place to host small events) full of stands selling items, food and vendors hosting games and activities. Decorations covered the entire borough, flowing into Central London and beyond.

Collapsing onto a nearby bench, she sobbed into her hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long...

Jacob walked through the celebrating people, each hand clasping one belonging to each of his twin children as they walked alongside him.

Winnie was pulling his hand, wanting to run to a nearby puppet show hosted to entertain children, retelling the story of the fight against the Templars. Children looked up at the show in awe as they listened to an event that happened only ten years ago, before half of them were even born as adults watched fondly, remembering those harsh days when they survived miserably in work conditions not fit for even the lowest of society.

Samuel was keeping himself as close as possible to his father's legs, looking around at his surroundings shyly, his eyes lingering on things that interested him for a moment before tearing his gaze away; he did not like asking for things he didn't need unlike his sister, who believed she needed everything that has ever been made. Jacob bought him things Samuel had an interest in as it wasn't fair if Winnie had received many gifts from their father and he hadn't received any.

"Jacob!" he turned his head and gave a nod of acknowledge to a few fellow Rooks. They waved at the twins, who either hid behind his leg or waved back just as enthusiastically. Jacob kept walking, the twins hurrying to catch up, holding his hands tightly to make sure they were with them throughout the day until it was time to go home. Samuel would be happy to go to bed but it would take a long time to tire Winnie out as you never take her to bed when she's still hyper; never. There would be crying and screaming as Jacob desperately tried to calm her down and into bed.

Jacob didn't notice when one hand became empty until Samuel tugged on his pants urgently. He looked down to only see one child, and his eyes widened. He turned around in a circle, trying to find the youngest twin, panic beginning to set in. "Winnie?!" he shouted in the crowds of people. "Gwyneth?!"

Mabel looked up, glancing around. The name being shouted into the crowds wasn't familiar to her at all, but the tone of the obviously father's voice made her heart ache. Someone had lost their child. She began to look around, prepared to find a crying child standing in the middle of the people without any mother or father standing with her. Instead, a light coo came from her right and she turned her head to see a little blonde five year old girl, staring up at her with the brightest and biggest green eyes she had ever seen on a person. "Oh, hello." was this the girl who the man was looking for before? She looked a little young to be running around by herself, and too nicely dressed and clean to be one of the poor orphans.

"Pretty!" she pointed at her neck. Her hand immediately went to grasp the necklace resting on her cleavage, taking it into her hand and tightening into a fist. The necklace was precious to her, once belonging to her mother. She knew her, but she died of tuberculosis when she was twelve, leaving her distraught father and heartbroken grandfather behind, along with her. Her grandfather was still alive at the age of sixty, but stayed in their home all day as he was too tired to go outside and thought the streets of London was boring and crowded. She couldn't help but agree.

"Thank you." the girl pulled herself up onto the bench and began to kick her legs back and forth, staring up at her with her big doe eyes. "And what is your name?"

"Winnie!" she grinned. "That's what Papa and Sammy call me...Papa calls me Gwyneth when he's serious, so I'm really confused." Mabel smiled down at her. She was cute, she could give her that.

"Where is your father and-I assume your brother?" she asked. Winnie nodded then turned her head to point them out but stopped half way, her eyes began to fill with tears and Mabel's heart skipped a bit in fear. She had no idea what to do to comfort children, especially this small innocent girl who now seemed to be wanting to bawl her eyes out. "It's okay!" she placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find them don't worry!"

She stood up and helped the child off the bench, grabbing her bag full of her research. She opened her mouth to ask what her father and brother looked like when shouts filled the air. "Little Frye!" was called from in the crowd and the two didn't move, staring, trying to find the source. Then, yet again but a different voice, "Little Frye!" from the left. One by one the voices picked up as people searched for a child. No, the small girl now clutching her hand.

"Gwyneth!" Mabel was surprised her eyes could get anymore wider than they already were. The voice seemed to be familiar to her, as she began to tug her towards the direction of the voice. "Gwyneth!"

"Papa!" she called, but the voices of other people socialising and not knowing the urgency to find the child made her voice unable to be projected as loud as she wanted. "Papa!" Mabel looked around through the heads of people, trying to find a desperate looking man but not being able to see anyone. She held the child's hand tightly, just in case she ran off and became lost yet again.

Just as she looked away to check on Winnie, she saw a man carrying a small child, the same age as the small girl who was holding her hand. It was not the man that had caught her attention, it was the boy also looking around frantically. He looked familiar to her; the freckles, nose, mouth and huge eyes. She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her own eyes, trying to pinpoint where she had seen that child before as she felt a tug on her hand.

"I can't find them!" she looked down to see Winnie who yet again looked like she was about to start crying. Mabel's eyes widened; the freckles, nose, mouth and huge eyes. The two children looked so similar that they could have been twins...Twins!

"I can see them!" she looked up again and sure enough they were there, still looking. She bent down and picked up the now stunned child and began to push through the crowds of people, heading straight towards the man and his son who had their backs towards them and was walking away, still looking for someone or the child in her arms. "Excuse me!" she called once she was close enough. "Excuse me, Sir!" the two turned around at the shouting and Winnie's eyes widened.

"Papa!" she called and Mabel placed her on her feet so she could run towards her. The man placed his son on the ground so he could hug his daughter. She ran into his arms and he held her tight, picking her up and holding her in the air.

"Winnie!" he began to check her for any injuries as she struggled to get out of his hold. When he was satisfied he placed her down onto her feet, and smiled, overjoyed. "Where were you?" he asked.

"Pretty woman!" she pointed behind her to Mabel, who stood there, stunned, staring straight at him.

She hands began to shake. That was Jacob Frye; leader of the Rooks and a notorious assassin, and she had just returned his daughter back to him. What if he thought she had kidnapped her? Or done something to her? She would be dead, six feet under the ground. He made eye contact, grey meeting green, and he gave a nod. "Thank you for bringing back my daughter, Ma'am. Now, my daughter failed to tell me your name?"

"M-Mabel. Mabel Lynch, sir." she stepped forward to take his hand that he had held out for her to shake.

"Jacob Frye, just Jacob will do." he shook her hand with a smirk, and she raised an eyebrow. "Oh! And these are my children; Samuel, or Sammy, and Gwyneth, or Winnie." he pushed them forward to stand in front of him, hands on their shoulders.

"Thank you for bringing back my sister, Miss!" Sammy chirped and Mabel smiled; he was a polite boy.

Winnie smiled up at her. "Thank you, Mabel!" she beamed and Mabel laughed; she was a funny one.

"You're both very welcome. Now, unfortunately, I have to go now but I may see you two around." she said, looking up at Jacob. Sammy nodded in understanding and Mabel began to whine, wanting to play with her necklace some more.

"Maybe we will. See you soon, Miss. Lynch." he smiled and turned around, leading his children away from her.

"See you soon." she turned around and headed in the opposite direction before stopping, a thought occurring. Jacob Frye, with all of his connections in every social class in London, was also close to Frederick Abberline, he helped him out years ago with murder investigations like the one she wanted-no, needed-investigating. She turned around and began to run after them. "Mr. Frye!"

He stopped walking, making his children copy, and turned. "Yes, Miss. Lynch?" he asked. She stopped in front of him and clumsily pulled out her research out of her bag and thrusting it into his hands.

"I-...There has been six mur-" she glanced down at the curious children. "- _cases_ recently that I believe have a connection. I went to Frederick Abberline about this but he wouldn't listen, saying there was no link between them but I know they do. They were murdered with the same weapon, and all complained about being followed weeks before they were...before they  _disappeared_." Jacob flickered through the papers, skim reading.

"Why didn't Frederick Abberline accept this case?" he asked. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"You know why." she replied. He nodded in understanding. What men in this world would even listen to what a woman said unless she placed fear in their hearts? Like Evie, which is probably why Frederick listened to her. He was raised with Evie, being her twin and all, and saw women as equals to men or Evie would come back from India and kick his ass. Maybe that's why women threw themselves at him, one thing was for sure, this woman in front of him did not.

"Okay, okay. I'll...read what you've gathered than I'll contact you this weekend if I agree to help you, but only this weekend. If I don't contact you, then..." he said. She nodded, clapping her hands together eagerly.

"Oh thank you!" she grinned. "Then, I'll be off then. Oh, my address!" she grabbed the paper back and sat down on a nearby bench, pulling out a pot of ink and a feather from her bag before dipping the tip into the pot and scribbling her address onto the front page. "Here." she handed it back to him as she placed her equipment away. "I'll see you soon then?"

He nodded. "See you soon then." she stood up and ran off, disappearing into the crowd, leaving the three there.

His mind was on the case as they walked around the park, walking to different stands until the sun began to set. He walked them home, ready to make supper for them, which he did when they stepped into their home. He quietly ate his supper at the table with his children, who bickered back and forth about something or other. He looked down at his oatmeal, stirring it around the bowl before taking a bite.

"Papa?" Winnie asked as he tucked her into bed after supper, now dressed in a nightgown. "Will we see Mabel again?" she asked. He chuckled, glancing at the door, his mind yet again on those papers.

"Maybe, now, go to sleep." he kissed her forehead and went over to Sammy, doing the same to him although he was already asleep. "Goodnight, Sammy." he walked to the door, glancing around the room. "Goodnight, Winnie." he whispered, slowly closing the door.

"Goodnight, Papa." he heard before the door closed fully. He sighed, rubbing his face and walking into the main house, sitting down at his desk, his head in his hands. He reached out a hand and pulled the case towards him, beginning to read beside a candle so he could see the words, encasing the rest of the house in darkness except for the lights outside from the streetlamps.

He fell asleep two hour later at his desk, already deciding what he was going to do. In the room where his children slept, Mabel slept peacefully but it was her older twin that tossed and turned throughout the night, whimpering in fear, crying out for help that only he could hear.


End file.
